The Strangers

BY : entryst
Category: S through Z > Wheel of Time Series
Dragon prints: 2750
Disclaimer: This story should be regarded as “fan fiction,” I do not own the Wheel of Time or any of it's characters no copyright infringement is intended by me as I receive no personal gain for this story.


Brend knew trouble when he saw it. He had worked the door of Lalabeths brothel for ten years now and these strangers were trouble. Not that strangers were an uncommon sight in Taren Ferry. The town was the only major crossing of the river for miles. Strangers in Taren Ferry were usually a more predicable kind. Shifty Peddlers working their way up to the rural villages like Emonds Field or Watch Hill, aiming to gull the unsuspecting farm folk. They were often sullen and quick with a knife in an argument. Or the rough miners who worked in the Mountains of Mist. Down to drink away their hard won coin and entertain themselves with a street brawl before throwing down what was left of their cash to open up a girls legs. Sometimes there was a soldier deserting a war or, occasionally, a man on the run from the sherrif in Baerlon. Brend had dealt with them all in turn. Occasionally having to crack a head or two when strangers fought over a girl or rekindled some old stranger grudge. It was part of the job. A part Brend quite enjoyed to be fair.


These strangers were different though. Brend watched them as they dismounted in front of The Nine Fingers Inn and handed their horses to the stable boys. The young lads nearly shit their britches as they tried to figure out what to do with such animals. The woman had a white mare, a beautifully muscled palfrey, that stepped like a dancer on a showground. The man handed over the biggest destrier Brend had ever seen, glossy-black, and at least eighteen hands high. It nearly took a finger off young Jon Sandy with a nip. The thing was immense, and war-trained too… a fucking killer. There wasn’t a building in Taren Ferry worth more then even one of these animals, not the mayors house, not anywhere.        


They were inside the Nine Fingers a long time and Brends heart dropped when they came out and started walking directly towards the door of Lalabeths. The woman was a tiny thing, hidden in a cloak of the richest blue silk, her hood pulled down low so he could only see the curve of her jaw and the determined line of her doll-like mouth. She strode with purpose though. He couldn’t help thinking that this one might be as small as a girl but, she was obviously used to getting her way. The man followed her, watching both sides of the street. Not in an anxious way but, well practiced and supremely confident. He was a big bastard in a drab brown coat, but Brend wasn’t fooled. Brend had been in the Andoran army when he was younger and had seen men like this. The fluid way the man walked, light despite his size. The easy swing of those broad shoulders. This was a man who knew how to fight. Who didn’t need to bluster and brag to intimidate. A man who could turn deadliness on in an instant. Brend reached back into the doorway for his cudgel. People like this didn’t come to Lalabeths looking to fuck a run-away farm girl and tell her she’s as pretty as the Daughter Heir. People like this came to Lalabeths to cause trouble. There was no way he was letting them in.


Brend put out his hand as the woman stepped up to the door. He knew he could brush her off like a cobweb but, he gritted himself to take on her companion. Sheer terror overtook him as he turned to let them enter. He was just about to tell them to “fuck-off” when he found himself sweeping a welcome with his outstretched arm. He had no absolutely intention of doing this but, he was doing it. An unseen force gripped him and rotated him like a hinge with its pin running from the top of his head to his feet. He could feel his boots scuff on the floor with the unnatural turn and his eyes goggled over his un-working mouth, suddenly jammed up with something he couldn’t see. The woman walked past him without a pause, but the man regarded him strangely, as if he too was surprised by the strange turn of events. When they had gone inside the brothel Brend felt the force release it’s grip on him and he sagged against the door-frame in shock. Thinking this was the first time he deserved a holiday from Lalabeths, the first time he should go home sick, he started to head down the street.


This was a night for locking the door and drawing the covers over his head.




Darrac was drunk. He lolled on his bench and dandled Sally Mac on his knee, one arm around her shoulders and one hand on his mug of ale. After a good slurp he slipped his hand into her bodice and pinched her nipple. The girl winced with the pain and gave him a smile that never got near her eyes. Sally didn’t make conversation. Darrac knew there wasn’t much point sweet-talking a man like him. He looked bad, smelled bad, and had a bad reputation. He loved her discomfort. Sally was the youngest girl in Lalabeths, still learning her trade. He roughly jerked her down onto his lap so she could sit on the hard erection that was pressing up in his trousers. She giggled falsely and her eyes scanned the room to see if another customer might be available. The look wasn’t lost on Darrac and it excited him more. He groped a hand under the young girls skirt and wriggled against her small-clothes until his fingertip was pressing directly on her anus, making her squirm. He leered up at her.


- I’m going to fuck you in there tonight.


Sally grabbed him into her bosom to hide her disgust and felt his tongue slither into her cleavage as his finger poked and prodded her back entrance. Over the top of Darracs balding head she noticed a strange couple being ushered into the room by Brend. A rather handsome looking man and, strangely, a woman with him. An extremely well dressed lady by the look of her.


Darrac, in the meantime, was enjoying some drunken reminiscence as he rubbed his face in the girls bosom and fantasised about fucking her hard and rough. The Great Lord had been good to him over the years. Giving him opportunity with many girls like Sally during his time in Gorin Rogad’s army. Three years he had served in Captain Culand’s brigand band. Bringing the word of the False Dragon to the Illianer shit-eaters, burning their houses and scattering their cowardly soldiers. Many an Illianer peasant-girl had spread for him. Whether she liked it or not. Those were the days. At least until it all ended and he had to come to Taren Ferry to hide.    


After a moment Darrac noticed that Sally wasn’t paying much attention to him any more. This irked him. Disgust, hate, fear, these were all things he desired in a woman but, indifference, apathy… to be ignored. That reminded him of when he was a lad, a smiths apprentice, in love with Verity Amayra. Pretty Verity who spurned him, who kissed Tobyn Lort, who laughed at Ugly Darrac, who pitied him, who drove him to pledge his soul to the Great One. Angrily, he pushed Sally back. What was that bitch looking at?


Then he saw “her” and was stunned. She was delicate, deliciously slender, but a full-grown woman nonetheless. Clad in shimmering blue and hooded to hide her face, deep brown ringlets framed that delicate chin. He reached out for her like a child grabbing at a shiny toy and caught her elbow. In his drunken head he counted up his money. Did he have enough for this new one? He pulled her arm, turning her. Was she as pretty as her clothes made her out to be? He had to know. Darrac was oblivious to everyone now. Oblivious to Sally standing back from him. Oblivious to the the big man drawing back a punch which would surely separate him from his senses. From his sitting position this beauty stood over him and he looked up into her hood, eagerly seeking her face.


Her face. Alabaster, beautiful, immaculately cold. Was she eighteen? Or twenty-eight? Or forty-eight? Or older? Younger? A face perfectly frozen in time. Just like that other woman. The dusky one in the green dress. The one with the body of a Domani tavern dancer. One day she had come to Culand’s band camped in the forests of Altara and informed them their reaving days were done. Captain Culand, as cocky a commander as the Great Lord ever had, told her how they’d take turns fucking her and they’d let her live only if she pleased them all. How the band had laughed. Until they realised she was laughing too.


Darrac still had nightmares about the way Culand’s face had melted off his skull when the fire came from her hand. Anyone who rushed at her died that day. An impossibly moving tree branch had snapped Black Will’s neck. Diamond John was flung so high into the air he perished instantly when he hit the ground. In the forests at the back of the camp, shadows moved. Two things with cloaks the eye couldn’t fix on. Cutting… killing. Seasoned veterans were falling like sheaves of wheat. Three years invincible, and in minutes Darrac was running, screaming… flinging his weapons away.




Sally was glad to get away from Darrac and deeply curious about the strangers to had come to Lalabeths tonight. The Lady was so pretty and her clothes so beautiful. The Gentleman was so handsome, like his face was carved by a sculptor. They were a fairy-tale couple in a story she instantly wanted to be part of. Like may of the girls, Sally was afraid of Ugly Darrac. He was a “hurter” and a mean man, even if he always had coin. It annoyed Sally to see him grab the Lady’s arm like that. She drew her little hand back to slap Darrac’s face, something she wished she had done before but never had the courage. Something about this Lady made her brave, made her want to fight.


She was shocked to suddenly see Darrac scream and release the Lady’s arm like it was red hot. He pulled away from her in horror, sliding along the bench until his back was against the wall. He was babbling apologies to the Lady, his boots still scrabbling and scuffing on the bench as if trying to push him through the wall behind him. Finally, holding his mug of slopped ale against his chest, he began to blubber and beg for mercy.


Sally was frozen with the tension in the room. The big man had reached inside his coat. Sally just knew he had a dagger in there. The Lady’s mouth was a thin line of disgust as she regarded Darrac from within her hood. The Gentleman looked at the Lady, as if waiting for an order, and was greeted with an almost imperceptible shake of her head. She gave a dismissive flick of her finger to Darrac and he scrambled over the side of the table in panic, knocking over drinks and stumbling in his haste to get away. He fell over two times before he got to the door and fled through it. The big man watched Darrac coldly is if trying to mark where he was running to. Perhaps he meant to kill Darrac later, but he did not leave his Lady’s side.


- What is your name girl?


Sally’s attention snapped back as the lady addressed her. The woman's voice was strange, her accent so unusual. Her words chimed almost in a sing-song way as she talked.


- Sally, my Lady.          


Sally bobbed a curtsy as best she could, suddenly self conscious about the amount of cleavage she was showing.


- We will take this table Sally. Bring a cloth to clean it and some wine.


- Yes Ma’am.


- And bring us the oldest whore who works here.


- Yes Ma’am


Sally scampered away to do the lady’s bidding.




Mother Lalabeth sighed as she surveyed the common room from the bottom of the stairs. That fool girl Sally had given her such a start when she bashed on the bedroom door and babbled on about strangers. At first she had thought the girl had gone insane, her head was so full of fairy tales at the best of times it was hard to know. Now, looking into the common room she saw Sally was reporting accurately. Nothing was in it’s place. The atmosphere in the room was more like a grandmothers birthday party than the friendly and saucy brothel Lalabeth had worked so hard to build. All around, girls were lacing up their bodices and smoothing out skirts. Customers were making polite conversation about the weather before quietly finishing their drinks and leaving. Brend was nowhere to be seen. The way things were going she needed him keeping people in rather than keeping them out.


The madam flitted gracefully behind a screen in a way designed not to draw attention. Even though she was well into her middle years she could glide silently when she wanted to. Many years as an expect dancer had left her light on her feet. Quietly she surveyed the strangers to try to ascertain what she was dealing with. They sat side by side on the bench and did not speak to each other. The man was clearly a fighter, muscular and with an air of danger. Just the way she liked her men in fact. The woman was small and pretty, she had removed her cloak and was wearing a richly embroidered dress of the finest quality. Clearly she was rich and had good taste, if a little conservative in style. In her dark hair she wore a golden chain which suspended a small blue stone on her forehead. An odd piece of jewelry. With uncanny prescience the woman noticed Lalabeth standing at the screen and gestured for her to join them.


Lalabeth gathered her wits for a battle. Perhaps she no longer had the ravishing beauty of her youth and wasn’t slender anymore but she wasn’t without weapons. She knew she was still handsome to look at and possessed that attractive quality of a mature and knowledgeable woman. Even at her age sex was a potent tool.  


She sat on the bench opposite the man but addressed the woman directly with a sniff.


- We don’t cater for your type.


Then she smirked sexily at the man.


- But you, sugar… I’ll do at a discount.


The man gave her a warm smile, he was well used to being complimented by women, but the Lady looked puzzled.


- I beg your pardon?


- I don’t fuck girls.


Lalabeth gave her most charming smile to the Lady in blue and was rewarded with eyebrows furrowed in a small gesture of annoyance. So this ice bitch could be ruffled.


- You misunderstand Miss Lalabeth. I am looking for a man.


- Honey, you’ve never looked for a man in your life.


She turned to the man with a wink.


- Am I right?


He was starting to look a little uncomfortable now. Lalabeth nodded sideways at the woman but held his eye.


- Be honest with me. Have you fucked her yet?


His expression turned deliberately blank.


- You’ve thought about it, haven’t you? More than once, I’ll bet, but it’s never happened, has it?


She glanced between the two make sure her guess was right.


-A man like you and she’s never once tried to get you into bed with her. Not in all your time together.


- It’s not like that.


- Oh, I know it’s not. Not for you anyway. Take it from me though, I’ve been in this game a long time and I can tell a persons kink just by looking at them.


Lalabeth turned to look the Lady in the eye.


- She’s ice on the outside but, she’ll wet right through her small-clothes for a little piece of puss…




Lalabeth jumped at the sound of the lady’s hand hitting the table and, when she withdrew it, there was a large coin left there. The madams eyes were drawn to the money. It was a Gold Crown! Not the silver penny that was normal currency in Taren Ferry, nor even an Andoran silver Mark which rich people used. It was a real gold crown, stamped with the impression of a city on an island in the middle of a river crossed by many bridges.


If there was anything Lalabeth liked more than sex, it was money. She licked her lips. This coin would be more than the whole brothel would make in week. A girl would spend months on her back to see that much money. Her eyes widened as the woman took a second gold crown and placed it on top of the first. There was a thick tension in the room as the last customer quietly left. Lalabeth nearly stopped breathing when a third coin was added. On this side was a mark like a tear-drop… The Flame of Tar Valon.


The old madam reluctantly raised eyes to be held by the gaze of the other woman's hard blue eyes.


- Do I have your attention now?


Lalabeth swallowed hard and nodded.


- Let me introduce myself. You may call me Mistress Alyss, and this is Andra, my companion. I have questions for you. Answer them satisfactorily and you may have this money.


She gestured to the coins.


- Displease me and you will find me an…unpleasant guest. Do you understand?


Lalabeth nodded eagerly, she would answer anything for that money. Tell any story. Strip naked, stand on the table, and sing The Hunter Whips his Dog at the top of her voice. Her hands twitched with desire. She reached out to grab the coins only to grunt with surprise when the coins didn’t move. She strained and pulled hard but they would not budge from the table. It was as if they were part of the wood itself, she might as well have being trying to move a house. It was only when she looked up in surprise at Mistress Alyss to see her impassive expression, her hard eyes, and her ageless face the true dread of her situation started to sink in.


- How old are you Lalabeth.


- Forty three.


- Have you always worked here.


- Yes, for thirty years now. I started sweeping the floor, and now I own the place.


- I am looking for a specific man, two men possibly, soldiers who fought in the Aeil War. They would have returned twenty years ago. Do you remember any coming here back then?


- A lot of soldiers fought the Aeil. A lot of them came here. How can I know who I fucked twenty years ago.


- One of them had a baby with him.


Lalabeth stiffened at that revelation.


- You remember them?


The old whore sighed and smiled.


- Abell Cauthon.


- Abell Cauthon had the baby?


- No. It was his friend who had the baby.


- What was his friends name?


-Um… I can’t remember.


Mistress Alyss looked disappointed to hear this.


-Well, what do you remember? Can you recall anything that happened that day, anything that would help you remember Abell Cauthons friend.


Lalabeth waved at Sally to bring more wine and sat back, reminiscing.


- They came here on their way back from the war. Just like you say. Abe wanted to celebrate but his friend was a real wet fish, just sat in the corner talking about his wife. They were lucky that Lucy Farshaw was working here at the time.


Lalabeth smiled as she remembered those old times.


-Lucy had the biggest tits you’ve ever seen, and there was always milk in them. That girl made a fortune letting men suck on them before she went on up to Bearlon. The child was half starving when Abell and his friend got here. I think those two fools were trying to feed him with a rag dipped in goats milk.


She shook her head at the idiocy of men and then suddenly laughed.


- You should have seen that baby sucking on her tit like a new born calf and, at the same time, Abe Cauthon trying to get his mouth on her other one.


Mystress Alyss seemed a little put out out at the kind of story this was developing into but, since she was eager to find any scrap of useful information she gestured for Lalabeth to continue.


- Tell me more about Abe Cauthon, maybe it will help you remember the other ones name.


- Light, where do I start. Abe is the best horse trader that ever set foot in Taren Ferry and the job suits him well because that man is hung like a fucking stallion. Blood and Ashes I used to love seeing him come through that door on market day. He just has this way about him, I can’t quite describe it. He makes a girl relax and laugh and makes her want to get her body up close to his. You know what I’m talking about?


Lalabeth smiled at the couple knowing that, each in their own way, neither of them truly understood. Lady Alyss rolled her eyes but at least Andra looked to be enjoying the tale.  


- The girls would always be fighting when Abe came to call. It’s hard to explain. He’s not much to look at, and a big cock isn’t the be-all and end-all of the world. It’s the knowing how to use it that’s important. Abe sure knew how to use it and when you worked that cock you worked hard. Even so, whether he was fingering you, licking your slit, or banging you, he always knew what you wanted. No matter how he fucked you; standing up, sitting down, on top, underneath, he was always a giver, never a taker. If he put that thing in your mouth, your pussy, or even up your arse, you always wanted more. He could please anyone with that cock, he was a master. He should have had a heron tattooed on the thing.


Lalabeth giggled as Andra choked out his wine, stifling a laugh. Mistress Alyss didn’t seem too impressed with the story but, Lalabeth was warming to her tale and she gave Andra a conspiratorial look.


- One year, for his birthday, Mother Aludra wanted to give him a special treat for being such a loyal customer. She brought him upstairs to the big room where she had the four prettiest girls stripped naked and all-in-a-line on their hands and knees.


Under the table Lalabeth had slipped her silk stockinged foot out of her shoe and slid it up Andras leg, wriggling her toes between his thighs. Andra coughed and glanced at Mistress Alyss who was still rolling her eyes that these irrelevant details.


- I was girl number four that night. I remember just waiting on the bed with my ass up in the air as he started banging the girls up the line. I was so turned-on just listening to them that when he got to me I was dripping.


She bit her lip and made eyes at Andra while wriggling her foot higher into his crotch.


- I don’t know if he wanted to make an example of me or he was driven crazy from having three pussies in a row but he started fucking me much harder than the others. I mean really driving it in. It was embarrassing because it only took about two minutes before I started coming like never before. Hardly professional. All the girls were watching me screaming and shaking but I just couldn’t control myself.


Lalabeth paused her story and took Andras glass from his hand to take a sip of wine. He looked a little flustered now as her toes traced the outline of a rock-hard bulge in his trousers.  


-They used to tease me so much after that. I could be working with a guy in one room and I would hear Ginger Bess next door pretending to get-off exactly like I did. She knew I could hear her, the bitch.


Mistress Alyss was looking from Andra to Lalabeth with some annoyance as she noted that they were staring at each other lustfully. As if they were the only two people in the room. She coughed to get their attention


- Yes, well that’s an…um…edifying, story. Has it helped you remember Abell’s companion.


Underneath the table, and out of sight, Lalbeth expertly massaged Andras cock with a dexterous foot.


- Actually it has.


The Lady leaned forward eagerly.


- Well, who is he?


- I’m not telling you.


Lady Alyss bolted upright in shock.


- What do you mean you’re not telling me.


Lalabeth adjusted her foot caressing Andras erection with more force. She held eye contact with him but spoke to his mistress.


- I’ll tell you a name if you tell me one. Who’s your girlfriend?


- What? What are you talking about?


Lalabeth continued her ministrations as she talked, she was enjoying the way she had both of them in her power now.


- I know you have a lover and I know it isn’t a man. Just admit it and you’ll get what you want.


Mistress Alyss was gripping her skirts with both hands in frustration.


- You don’t know what you are talking about. Tell me the man’s name.


- Tell me the girls name.


Lalabeth ground her foot harder and faster. Andra was starting to breathe shallowly.


- You’ll get no money.


- Keep it, I have plenty.


Mistress Alyss voice was tight with anger.


- I’m warning you for the last time. Tell me who Abell’s companion was.


- Only if you tell me who you’re fucking


- I’ll tell you no such thing.


- Then leave.


Andras cock-head was now clearly pressing against the front of his trousers and Lalabeth rubbed her toes on it vigorously. She smiled sexily at him because she knew how close he was to popping. Mistress Alyss slapped the table in frustration.


- Tell me. Who is he?


- Who is she?


- I’m not answering.


- Then you can…


Lalabeth felt something grab her ankle.


- It’s Siuan.


It was Andra who spoke. He was quivering, clearly on the edge of orgasm, but his grip was like iron. Stopping her from touching him any further.


- Her name is Siuan.


Alyss was looking at him with undisguised fury, her icy composure shattered. It made Lalabeth smile with victory.


- Siuan. Such a lovely name. She’s as delicate as a flower I’m sure. A wilting violet.


Andra cautioned her in a low voice.


- Lalabeth, you promised.


Mistress Alyss looked unable to speak right now.


- Oh, all right then. His name is Tam Al’Thor. Tam Al’Thor is the one who had the baby. Abell Cauthon lives in a village called Eomands Field, it’s about two days ride across the ferry. I’m sure Abe can tell you where his friend lives.


Andra gently pushed her foot down towards the floor.


- Thank you Lalabeth.


- You’re welcome sugar lips.


The big fighter rose from the table, careful to turn his bulge away from his Mistress as he got up.


- I think we will be going now.


- Are you sure you don’t want to come upstairs with me.


- Maybe another time. We have a lot of work to do.


Lalabeth blew a kiss at him as he waited by the door for Mistress Alyss. The diminutive Lady had regained her composure and her serene expression and, even though her eyes glared daggers at her companion, she did leave the coins behind her.


She seemed strangely excited to have learned the name of this “man-with-baby”.

You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story